March 2022 SOLC–Day 12
A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow.
I woke to a world drenched overnight. With the sun hidden behind layered clouds, it felt like a time between. The air clung to the last remnants of rain. Droplets spangled tree branches, glowing silver in the dim light. I could feel the tug of the river, the mist, the layered trees.
So off I went, camera in hand. I wandered from place to place. Stopping when the mood hit me, to walk and soak in the atmosphere. Content to let the morning unfold around me.
At the river winter’s muted palette still reigns. Moody. Mysterious. (Note the eagle in the tallest tree.)
Pools, droplets and puddles caught my eye.
Eagles abounded. Immatures and adults. Far off and nearby. Perched and in flight.
Every where I turned something pulled my attention. I let my focus drift from one thing to another.
I drove to another nearby river, hoping to see the red-winged blackbirds in its adjacent marshes, drawn by the atmosphere. Shapes cloaked and shadowed. Pockets of mist in the distance.
I parked and walked. The landscape stretched out, bleak and empty. Until suddenly it erupted into movement. Then settled again. Like an exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
A dreary morning.
A generous morning.
A morning to wander.
A morning to wonder.
A morning to celebrate.